Worth It?
by Sweetwater Gal
Summary: Is love worth it? Kay-centric fanfic. rating due to language & character(s) death(s) plz give chance b4 casting story aside. pro theroxgwencharity, slight anti miguel
1. Father Wyatt

**WORTH IT?**

  


Disclaimer: None of the characters (except Father Wyatt) belong to me. They belong to NBC and JER. 

  


A/N: Warning, this isn't for those people looking for a fluffy happy ending. There is **_death_** involved. So be warned that a character... or two... or maybe more... will die. I also changed Kay's personality to accompany what happened to her as far as **this fanfiction story** goes. I also had Deanne's Kay in mind when I wrote this tale, not the latest Kay recast. Oh, and the LA six storyline... did NOT happen. Did not, has not, and by the looks of this storyline... will not happen. If any type of ending I can guarantee... to quote Stephen King's "Rita Hayworth & the Shawshank Redemption": _"I **hope**..." _Please keep that word in mind as you go through the second part of this fanfiction...

  


**PROLOGUE:**

"Hello, Kay. How're you doing today?" He looked down at the young woman before him. His eyes regarded her, taking her in as if trying to break through and see the spirit within. A spirit, he's heard from her loved ones, that was broken by tragedy. 

  


She hadn't spoken a word when her mother brought her into his office. She nodded her head softly in acknowledgement when he introduced himself to her. Still, though, as she sits quietly, Miss Katherine "Kay" Bennett hasn't uttered a single word. It was strange to imagine that this young woman before him, from the countless stories her family would tell, was once so spirited, so full of life and determination. And though, he also heard, Kay's behavior was far from angelic... no one could deny that she had spunk and energy pouring from her being. Regarding her at this moment... you would have thought that she had lived that life another lifetime before this.

  


He shuddered to think what caused this drastic change in her. Oh, he had heard everyone's point of view as to what happened to Kay. He wasn't here in Harmony when the events in her life unfolded. Everything he's learned about Kay were all from those that knew and love her. Mrs. Bennett had asked if he could somehow help them at least get some of the old Kay back. Looking at the woman before him and thinking about the infamous Kay of old... the task seemed too daunting, and the results too much of a miracle to ask for. What in heaven's name happened to Kay Bennett?

  


_"Well,"_ he sighed to himself as he sat in the chair opposite of Kay. _"If they're asking for a miracle, they certainly came to the person with the right profession."_ Out of habit, he briefly placed his hand near his neck, his thumb slightly rubbed his priestly white collar. He gave a small cough, sat back in his chair, and set his sights upon her.

  


"Kay? You know why you're here, right? Why your mother brought you in here to meet with me? She's worried about you..."

  


Kay's blue eyes stared silently into his own blue eyed gaze. For a moment, he began to feel uncomfortable, especially as he realized what kind of look she was giving him. He had seen it before from people he had given guidance to. It was a look that said "Why should I trust you, much less talk to you?" He knew she was giving him that look... yet, as he shifted in his chair with a start, there was something else lurking in her eyes. "Was she... is she trying to look _into_ me?" The thought ran in his mind as quickly as his own eyes darted away from hers. 

  


Suddenly, a miracle occurred in the parish office of one Father Wyatt Young.

  


"I wonder, Father, is it worth it?"

  


Wyatt sat up with curiousity and subtle eagerness. It was the first time he had heard her voice, much less hear her outside of breathing. His blue eyes equally staring into hers, "Is what worth it? What're you asking, Kay?"

  


"Love. I'm asking... I wonder... is love worth it? I wonder, Father, if love was worth everything that happened these months. Is it?"

  


He hesitated. Usually if a parishoner were to ask such a question, Wyatt would know right away how to respond. Often or not, he'd give them the same old lecture about the wonders of God's love and how its worth everything and anything... yada yada. However, he knew that this wasn't the case for Kay Bennett. At least, there was something in her voice, in her eyes, that told him otherwise. 

  


He ran a hand through his dark hair, taking a pregnant pause. Slowly, "Love? Well... uhm, Kay... what do _you_ think? I could tell you what _I_ think, but we're not here to talk about me. What do _you_ think of love's worth?" 

  


Kay's eyes seemed to change color... change emotions. Her eyes turned from weary to cold and hard. Wyatt gulped quietly, afraid that maybe he shouldn't have replied to her with questions instead of straight answers. 

  


"What I think? Father, do you _really_ want to know what _I_ think about love? I can tell you right now everything that I now know about it. Which, I'm guessing, that's why you're talking to me. To learn why I am the way I am now... and if you can somehow change me back. At least, that's what my family has asked you for, right? To find the way to 'exocise' my demons?" 

  


In that moment, Wyatt realized that for the first time, he was beginning to see the Kay that her family thought died long ago. Some small hope stirred in him as he regarded the hardness in her eyes and the edge in her voice. There was a fire still burning, and he'll be damned now if he didn't do anything to help keep it alive.

  


"Kay--" He started, but stopped when she reached over and grasped his hand into hers.

  


"Hear me out, Father, and you decide. Tell me if I can be healed... or if there's nothing left of me to be healed. Afterall, I'm sure that they also told you the part of me that died. The big part of myself that could never be whole again." Her eyes softened, as did her voice. Not just becoming soft... but weak and tired.

  


Father Wyatt nodded, determined now more than ever. "Alright, Kay. Tell me your story."


	2. Kay's Story

_Was it worth it?_

  


I kept asking myself the same old question; Was it worth it? Everyday for the past three months, from the moment I rise to the second I lay down to sleep, I wonder... is love worth it?

  


Is love worth all the pain and suffering that comes at a price for joy and happiness? Is love worth all the tears, and even blood, that was shed for the name of it? Is love worthy of life... and death?

  


The answer: No.

  


Three and a half months ago, however, my answer would have been different. God, what a complete fool I was.

  


I suppose I should start with my story. I suppose I was the first person in Harmony to really question whether or not love was worth anything. Later on, however, others would learn that if we put a price on love... we're bound to pay for it. Even if it means paying in blood.

  


But, I'm getting ahead of myself. 

  


My one goal in life, at the time, was to have Miguel Lopez-Fitzgerald be madly in love with me. Me and only me. As far as I was concerned, Miguel was the love of my life. He was my heart. My soul. My everything. If I didn't have him, what else was there to live for? As far as I was concerned; my love for Miguel was worth sacrificing everything...

  


I was a fool to even believe that. Especially more than ever as I realized that I was carrying Miguel's baby. I hadn't considered the fact that this child was also a part of myself... All I cared about, at the time, was that _I_ was carrying _Miguel's baby_. Me. Not Charity. Miguel. Not Reese or any other man on this planet. I believed that. I lived for that. 

  


And I lost my baby because of that.

  


An innocent life, a precious little soul, was ripped from my grasp because of my childish obsession. I wouldn't even call what I had for Miguel as "love" anymore. It wasn't love. Funny how it took an innocent's death to make me realize that.

  


That day almost seemed like a lifetime ago. All I remembered at the start was that I had to keep my cousin Charity away from Miguel. Hell, looking back I realized that it was the first and last thought on my mind each day after Charity came to Harmony and before my miscarriage. It seemed like an ordinary day. A day to scheme; to bitch at my family about loving Charity and not me; to woo Miguel; to be daddy's little angel; to wreck my mother's happiness because, at the time, I didn't think she cared about mine... an ordinary day. Add in the usual pregnant woman's daily symptons and you can chalk it up to a regular day for one Kay Bennett.

  


I never even got the chance to hold her.

  


When I miscarried in the bathroom, of all places, I couldn't really tell what sex my baby was. I just had a feeling, y'know? That if I had come to term, I would have had the most beautiful baby girl ever. Call it motherly pride, I don't give a fuck because I knew in my heart that my baby would have been beautiful. Would have grown up to become a beautiful young woman that no man could resist. She would have been smart. She would have been kind. Most of all, she would have been so loved.

  


Before I lost her, believe it or not, I often thought of her as mine's and not Miguel's. Y'know late at night? That brief moment, just before you closed your eyes and welcomed sleep? That single moment where your mind wonders and thinks about the strangest things you would have never thought about if you were completely wide awake? Most would think about death, even if you were normally afraid of it. Most would think about the future, though you might be one of those that lived in the moment. I thought of my baby. I never thought of Miguel. I never thought about my love for him. All I thought about was how much I loved my little baby growing inside of me. How much I loved her, how much I was willing to sacrifice everything for her... even Miguel. I thought about how much joy she'll bring to my life, how much joy I'll bring to hers. She was my baby, not me and Miguel's baby, but _my baby_. 

  


So can you imagine just how much of myself died when she did? 

  


That day, my body was trying to tell me something, but my heart and mind wouldn't listen. My body was warning me, telling me that something was wrong with my baby. My heart and mind, however, were thinking about what I had to do to make Miguel love me and leave Charity. That's when I felt the need to use the toilet... big mistake. Big, big fuckin' mistake. 

  


In that hour, in that minute, in that _second_, I felt something just... God...

  


I couldn't scream. I just stared. I couldn't move. I just sat there, numb to the core. 

  


Thoughts raced through my mind, pain and disbelief stabbed my soul, my heart felt like it literally was ripped apart inside.

  


By the time a scream escaped my lips, it was too late. By the time a sob made its way to the surface, too much blood was lost. By the time my mother and sister came up the stairs and found me, I had already died... at least the part of myself that really mattered. She died. My baby died. I lost my little girl. 

  


My sister, Jessica, at first just stared in shock. It was my mother that woke her from her daze and commanded her to get help. 

  


My mother never left my side. I love her even more because of it. Without uttering a single word, she just held me in her arms. She held me, rocked me back and forth like she used to when I was just a baby myself. As my sobs grew louder, more painful and full of heartache, my mother only held me tighter. And as my voice finally came back and all I kept saying was "My baby. I lost my baby." my mother continued to hold on.

  


The rest of the day was a blur. Maybe because I just blacked out throughout the day and night. I did know, I could feel, that my mom never left me. Daddy told me later on that the jaws of life couldn't remove my mom's firm hand grip from mine's. It was one of the few jokes that caused a laugh to escape my lips. After my baby's death, I find it hard to smile, much less laugh, at anything these days.

  


I stayed at the hospital for a couple of days. I never left my bed. Not even to use the bathroom. Hell, even using the hospital restrooms I was reminded of what I lost. My parents practically set up camp in my room. Just like mom, dad refused to leave my side. Jessica and Simone, my best friend, offered to get me anything I wanted. I would just shake my head, my hand would rub my stomach, and they knew that even they couldn't bring my baby back. My uncle Hank brought in a stuff animal every day I was in the hospital, all pink, and saying that he knew they "wouldn't bring her back, but maybe it'll make her mommy happy." And each toy I held, I smiled softly, and I cried. I found it hard to speak, so instead I just cried.

  


Miguel's mother and brother, Pilar and Luis, paid me each a visit. In their own respective way they had asked if they could do anything for me. I gave them the same reply I would give to my sister and Simone; unless they could bring my baby back, there was nothing.

  


Charity bought a Precious Moment's ceramic angel with big blue eyes. When she handed it to me, I couldn't bare to hold it. Not because Charity, a woman I considered once as my enemy, had bought it for me. The angel with the big eyes just reminded me too much of my baby... of what she could have been and what she is now. Tears streaming down my face, I explained that to Charity just so that she wouldn't have been offended when I declined holding it. She started crying herself, apologizing that she hadn't thought of that when she got it for me. In that moment, I knew my relationship with Charity had drastically changed... if anything, for the better. 

  


The day my baby died, so did a lot of other things. My hatred for Charity was one of them. Another was my anger towards my mother and sister. And lastly, all my feelings for Miguel died right along with my child.

  


I refused to see him. I didn't want to talk to him, didn't want to see him, let alone have him come to me and saying how "sorry" he was that "our" baby died. Besides grief, sadness, and overall sense of dispair; I was pissed off. When Pilar, Charity, Jessica and Simone begged me to let him talk to me, it was the only times when I showed utter rage and fury. My mother, still holding my hand, never uttered a word on Miguel's, or even my own, behalf. I knew, though, that she knew how I felt about him now. She knew that I didn't "love" him anymore. 

  


Screw the fact that without him, I wouldn't have gotten pregnant with my baby. Maybe because if it hadn't been because of him, I also wouldn't have lost my little girl. I just couldn't stand him anymore. I was angry at him, I hated him, I was tired of Miguel. And just like nothing will bring my baby back, _nothing_ will ever make me look at Miguel the same way again. It just wasn't worth it.

  


After I was released from the hospital, I never left the house. Hell, I never left my room. I just locked myself up there, staring at me and my siblings' old baby photos. When I was sick of looking through the same albums, I practically begged Simone to let me see hers and Whitney's old photographs. Same thing with Pilar and all her children, with the exception of Miguel's. After, I begged to see Ethan's pictures, and even Gwen's photos. I guess they felt pity for me, especially Gwen, and allowed me to take a look. It felt like another obsession... but at least it was a somewhat safe one. Not like I'll be having another miscarriage anytime soon.

  


I lost a lot of weight, I lost a lot of sleep, but for some reason, at least according to my mother, I seemed to have gain "long lost wisdom" in my eyes. Her words, not mine. She said that now, every time she looked into my eyes, I seemed to know something that no one else knows. That I held a secret, some kind of "lost wisdom", that was gained after I lost my baby.

  


Whenever my mom would comment about my "secret", Ivy Winthrop's eyes widened as far as the Grand Canyon. Yes, I knew a couple of secrets all right... some that I wasn't too proud in knowing. Ivy hasn't been entirely too pleasant around me lately because I knew about her deal with David. That's another story, by the way. Talk to Ivy Winthrop about it... though it'll probably be a cold day in hell before she steps into a confessional. Anyway, mostly, especially noting how close I was getting with my mother, she's become paranoid that I might spill the beans on her. She's right to worry because eventually... I did. 

  


It was a rather random thing. I was just tired. I wasn't out to piss Ivy off, I wasn't set to ruining David's life. I just didn't care anymore. I just... didn't care.

  


So I told my mother everything. I didn't cry, though. Guess I was just as tired to do that as well. She must have known how I was feeling, how completely cut-off and nonchalant. She also knew that it was because I loved her and daddy that I didn't want to bare this secret any longer. I had nothing to lose, nothing to gain... because I didn't fucking care anymore about the repercussions.

  


I had watched her. Watched her expression, watched her reaction. In that one single moment, I had actually seen her face range from shock to anger and finally sadness and pain. I just stared at her, my face void of any emotion except weariness. When I was done, she hugged me, kissed me on the forehead, told me that she loved me, and left.

  


Did she confront Ivy? Did she tell daddy? David? John? Honestly... I don't know. To be real honest, I don't want to know and I don't fuckin' care. I was just tired of people having to pay with their lives... all for the price of love. God, was it worth it? 

  


Nothing was the same after that. At least through my eyes. Everything changed. Life wasn't the same. Love wasn't the same either. Everything and anything was different. Everyone tried to understand what I was going through... but I knew no one could. 

  


Until, I suppose, that one bloody Sunday in Harmony a few weeks after. 

  


I wasn't surprised to one day be rudely woken by my dear pure intentioned sister, Jessica. Simone gladly barged in as well, more than willing to "drag my ass out of bed" end quote. It felt like it was going to be an ordinary Sunday... just with an unusal way to begin it.

  


Jessica proceeded to tell me how she had "con daddy" into letting us use his credit card for a full day of shopping and girl talk. I knew she really didn't con dad, and she knew I knew that too. If anything, knowing my dad and how worried he was about me, he had practically shoved his gold card into my sister's more than willing hand. But I allowed my sister to bask in the glory of holding what could be the only object next to daddy's gun that he never usually lets out of his grasp.

  


I had looked out the window, saw how "normal" that Sunday looked... and for the life of me, I actually agreed to their little girl's day out.

  


I should have realized that morning that something was going to happen. From the moment I woke up, I should have known that lives were going to change. That day, that morning, felt all too familiar. It felt... it felt like that Sunday was going to be an ordinary Sunday in Harmony.

  


Well, we all know what happened the last time I felt that way.

  


Slowly, I got up and did half of, what I considered as, my usual post-miscarriage routine. The routine goes as follows: Get up, use the bathroom (I avoided the thing for a few days after my hospital release), go downstairs to get something to eat, go back to my room to look at more photographs, sleep, bathroom, eat, then sleep until the next morning. Once in a while, I would engage in at least an hour's worth of conversation. Whether it was fifteen minutes with Jessica here, twenty mintues with my mother there, then half an hour with Simone... I would talk for at least one full hour _only_. This routine worked well for me for nearly a month.

  


Right before we left the house, Jessica handed me my sunglasses and joked how it had been awhile since "Mrs. Dracula" made her public appearance. I gave her a weary, if merely amused, smile. That won her extra points from daddy because he then handed Jess extra cash for lunch. I guess he was attempting to score points from mom because he proceeded to mock threaten Jessica concerning his credit card. Saying that unless she's prepared to spend a year in Middle Earth, Jessica better not burn a hole in his wallet. He had scored the extra points when I allowed a small smirk, a trademark of my former self, to escape my lips.

  


To say that I was certainly a paler, thinner, almost ghostly image of my former self would have been an understatement. I barely fit in my regular clothes, much less the sweater and jeans that I currently had on me. The blue sweater not only brought out the "long lost wisdom" in my blue eyes, but because of my weight lost, it seemed a bit baggy on me. My black jeans also seemed to slip now and then past my waist and if it wasn't for the belt I borrowed from Jessica, it would have come completely right off. Add in the dark glasses I was wearing and people who never knew what I went through, would have thought that I had an abusive boyfriend or something...

  


Shopping and lunch had gone by quicker than I thought. I guess everything but this morning and later in the afternoon had gone by in a blur. In no time, we found ourselves walking along the wharf, enjoying the quiet Sunday afternoon in peaceful Harmony.

  


Jessica and Simone began prattling on about the latest "gossip" around town. Make that, the latest gossip concerning the Crane family and the rest of the Harmony residents. How it seemed that Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald Crane was not a Crane afterall. How Sheridan Crane will give birth to a Lo-Fitzgerald baby after all, regardless of it being either Antonio or Luis's baby. Stuff like that... Hell, as long as they never mentioned the "M" name; they can talk about Britney Spears scrubbing tile scum for her next movie for all I care.

  


For a moment, they had stopped their talking, thinking that I wasn't listening to them. Here they were, sitting on the bench behind me while I stood up with my back towards them and watching the water below us. I glanced behind me as soon as silence settled upon us, giving them a raised eyebrow questioning look. They stared up at me, questions, wonders and doubts began filling their eyes. Wondering if I seemed sincerely depressed... or if I was faking it for pity like the old Kay usually does. I don't blame them for such thoughts because even now I wonder about my own actions. 

  


I made my way back towards them. I sat myself in the middle of them, slow and hesitant. Jessica placed a sisterly arm around me as I laid my head on her shoulder. They watched me carefully, almost as if I was a fragile doll and they couldn't decide whether I should be held or placed back on the shelf. 

  


A sigh escaped my lips, "I lost her because I didn't love her enough." 

  


Simone placed a hand on my other arm, "Kay..." Sadness and even a hint of pity wavered in her voice.

  


"If I had to choose between my baby and _him_..." My voice continued, determined to let them know where my heart now stood. "Fuck Miguel."

  


Silence fell upon us. I felt them both tense up as the words fell from my mouth. They heard not just the words, but the fury and the regret, that it hadn't been said until now. They were truly at a lost for words because if you were to tell me long ago that I would have said them, I'd have told you to fuck off.

  


"We believe you, Kay." Jessica spoke first. Her voice between that of pain, disbelief, and even pride. 

  


"We're just sorry that it took losing your baby for you to realize that..." Simone added, though with a hint of regret.

  


"Me too, Simone..." Softly, "Me too..."

  


Silence and understanding came upon us. The crisp afternoon wind fluttered around as the water below us seemed to sing the same tranquil song. Never had I found such a peace between my sister and my best friend than right at this moment.

  


It's funny how the day started off so normal... and end the way that it did. The next few moments leading up to one of the biggest tragedies Harmony has ever witnessed seemed so... I guess, normal. 

  


Simone had gotten an urge for a hot dog. Jessica laughed when Simone had just blurted it out like that. I managed a small smile, but Jessica couldn't stop laughing.

  


"What? I do! You want one or not?" Simone asked, smiling as well.

  


"I'm sorry, Simone. It's just the way you said it!" Jessica giggled. Mocking, "'I want a hot dog.'" Her laugh rang in the air, "So out of the blue like that! Where did that come from?"

  


"Hey, can I help it if the aroma coming from the hot dog vendor is so strong?"

  


"Yeah," Jessica crinkled her nose. "It is kinda strong... I think I'm starting to crave for one myself." She looked at me, "Kay, you feel up to stuffing your face with a chili dog? Or a hot dog with all the trimmings? C'mon, Simone and I are up to it if you are."

  


I don't know what I was thinking when I agreed to it. Maybe it was my hunger that seemed to be back from a long vacation. Or maybe it was the expectant look of hope on their faces waiting for me to try something "normal" for a change. Whatever it was, I nodded my head and said "Sure, why not?"

  


They both stood up at the same time, stopped, and saw that I didn't seem to want to budge from my spot. Hesitation and worry etched on both their faces. 

  


"Jess, I'll wait here with Kay while you go grab you guys's food. I'll get mines when you come back."

  


"No guys, it's okay." I found myself saying. "You guys go get yours, I'll be fine by myself. I'm sorry, but I just..." I didn't know why I wanted to remain here, but it seemed like a part of myself was reluctant to leave this spot. Looking back, maybe it was a good thing I listened to my intuition. If I had moved, I wouldn't have become a first hand witness to the events unfolding.

  


"It's okay, Kay. You sure you'll be alright without us?" Simone placed a hand on my shoulder, still worried and reluctant to leave.

  


Patting her hand, "I'm fine, Simone. Now go..." Giving her one of my old smirks, "I'm starting to hear your stomach growling."

  


Usually Simone would cast me an irritated glare, but seeing that spark of my former self seemed to bring a hopeful grin to her face. Giving me a mock glare, "You sure that's not your stomach, Miss Toothpick?"

  


"Get going." I shook my head at them, an amused smile on my face as they started laughing. After I shooed them away, I allowed myself to sit back and listen to the sounds beneath the wharf.

  


It was soon interrupted, however, by the sounds of angry, if not passionate, arguing. It seemed to come out at two different directions. I sat up and glanced around me to see where the voices where coming from.

  


That's when I saw them. From my left side, I saw Luis and Sheridan coming around the corner. They were having one of their infamous "lover's quarrel". If only we could be so lucky as to find someone to not only love, but argue with as much passion as those two. For a bittersweet moment, I scolded myself for probably loving the wrong Lopez-Fitzgerald brother. Here was Luis, fighting with the woman that he loves because she's married to another though her heart belonged to him. And here's Sheridan, trying to reason with the man that she loves because she thought at one time he didn't want her and that's why she's married to his brother. Both trying their best to figure out how they fit in one another's lives and making sure that no one else gets hurt by their love.

  


A moment after, I turned to my right and saw another clan with that had a Crane and Lopez-Fitzgerald entering the scene. 

  


Only the two people arguing didn't exactly "love" each other, but hated one another with a passion. Here we have two brothers. One a Crane. Another, a former Crane now Winthrop with a twist of Bennett. Both only having one thing in common: being in love with Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. Well, technically they have _two_ things in common because they do have the same mother, but that's besides the point.

  


As I watched Fox Crane and Ethan Winthrop doing their "sibling rivalry" dance, I had glanced over at Luis and Sheridan, waiting for either of them to notice one another. But I guess it's true what they say; love is blind. Luis and Sheridan are blind for one another. Fox and Ethan are blind in their common love for Theresa. As I watched the two pairs, I still couldn't help but wonder of the consequences and think; Is love worth all this anger?

  


Fox and Ethan weren't alone. Theresa was, as she had found herself, literally in the middle of the two. She stared at the both of them, stared at the fury and love in their eyes. Her best friend, Whitney, had to grab Theresa's shoulders and tug her away from the men in her life. Mrs. Ethan Winthrop, a pregnant Gwen Hotchkiss, also found herself staring at the two brothers. If you had known of Gwen's hatred towards Theresa, you'd have thought that she would be staring daggers at her. Instead, she also stood on the side, watching the man that she loved now practically fight for another woman's love. Chad Harris, Whitney's boyfriend, was trying his best to get in the middle of the two men without getting himself killed.

  


I watched Gwen and saw eyes that looked too familiar. In some of my most self doubting moments way before my miscarriage, whenever I would watch Charity and Miguel together, I knew the look in my eyes. The look that says "Why can't he love me like he loves her?" The look that says "Why doesn't he fight for me like he's fighting for her?" The look that says "When all things are said and done, will he ever look at me like he looks at her?" In Gwen's eyes, now glistening with defeat, I saw what I had once looked like before I lost my little girl. A woman, carrying the child of the man that she loves, only realizing that he loves another. 

  


But I wonder if I was better off. At least Miguel had the balls to tell me the truth. That he was in love with Charity and not me. As I watched Gwen, I felt anger towards my half brother, Ethan. He wouldn't admit the truth to his wife, or himself, about his love for Theresa... and now look where it had gotten them. Gwen was now learning the hard way that maybe Theresa wasn't entirely at fault... that it took two to tango.

  


My gaze then turned to Theresa. If you were to watch from afar and ask yourself, which of the two men did she really love?, at that moment it would be difficult to tell. With her eyes full of tears, worry and confusion, her gaze darted between Fox and Ethan. She also had a look on her face that said "Where did I go wrong?" In the back of my mind, watching everything unfold, I had to wonder what Theresa did to ignite this impending explosion. And also wonder, just as she's probably wondering now; was it worth it?

  


By then, the two brothers' shouts had gotten so loud that Luis and Sheridan finally stopped fighting long enough to wonder themselves. I heard Luis tell Sheridan to stay where she was. He then made his way over there, barking at them "What the hell's going on?!" That's Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald for you. Mr. Harmony P.D.

  


I knew no one saw that I was at all witness to this. I intended to keep it that way. For once, I didn't mind being ignored because a lot could be said for being an outsider looking in. You got to see things that others too deeply involved never saw coming. As I stood to the side, watching everyone set themselves up like chess pieces, I was probably the only one present to see beforehand what was going to happen next. My only regret was staying silent and not warning them of the outcome that I only saw heading their way.

  


Theresa was the first one to talk to Luis. She quickly explained, in between tears, that she was sorry. That Ethan and Fox were fighting because of her. That they're about to kill each other because of her. That she never meant for things to come to this. Luis would have further asked what she was babbling about, but the two brothers' shouts were becoming more loud and more violent.

  


If Chad wasn't trying to literally get in the middle of the two, Ethan would have thrown the first punch by now. Of course you're probably wondering "why not Fox?" It's simple, because Ethan doesn't have Theresa the way that Fox now had her. Think about it, here's Ethan, married to another woman and suppressing his own passionate love for Theresa. Here's Ethan only realizing that he might lose Theresa to the one person that is the complete opposite of himself. Here's Ethan, realizing the one mistake that _he_ made by not being honest and here's Fox who was a quote-unquote "dishonest character" and now he was getting the woman of both _their_ dreams. Boy, it paid to listen to Jess and Simone's gossip.

  


Ethan was angry. Angry at himself. Angry at Fox. Maybe even angry at "destiny" for the life that he is now living. Ethan had suppressed every raw emotion in him for the sake of being "noble"... and now it was about to blow up in his face.

  


Looking in Fox's calm eyes, you could see that he knew the greatness of his brother's fury. It's as if he knew that Ethan was about to blow at any minute, and Fox had been waiting for this moment his entire life. As if he knew that _now_ was the chance for everyone to see the real Ethan Winthrop that Fox knew was hiding all these years.

  


"Okay you two, _knock it off_! I mean it!" Luis shoved himself in between the two. He stared daggers at the two brothers. Growling, "I want you two leave _right now_. Both of you are to stay clear from one another until you both are thinking with your heads and **not** your tempers. Are we clear?"

  


Luis challenged them with his eyes, daring the two to reprimand his orders. Ethan murmured a "Yes", while Fox nodded a "Crystal."

  


That's when Theresa made her decision that changed everyone's lives. It was really a simple act, but it obviously meant so much more. Without even glancing a look at Ethan's way, Theresa immediately grabbed Fox's hand. Her eyes stared up at his, pleading unmistakingly with love. "Fox, c'mon. Let's go."

  


Fox returned the look as he smiled softly down at her. "Yeah... alright."

  


If Fox had turned towards Ethan, gave him a smug "Told you so" look; maybe Ethan wouldn't have reacted the way he did. If Fox and Theresa had both glanced at Ethan, as if to give him a second thought; maybe Ethan wouldn't have done what he did. Instead, Theresa and Fox just kept their eyes on one another, ignoring Ethan, and never seeing only too late the anger and pain in his eyes.

  


I wasn't the only one that saw Theresa's quiet love and concern for Fox. Ethan saw it too... and it broke him. The moment that Fox was waiting for, that one moment in time that revealed Ethan's true emotions, finally exploded. Before anyone could stop him, Ethan yelled at Fox as he grabbed him from behind and ripped Fox's grasp from Theresa.

  


_"She loves **me**, not **you**!"_ His voice screamed, full of repressed passion, love and hate. 

  


Only an outsider could have seen what I saw. Only someone looking in could have seen the raw range of emotions flickering on Ethan's face. If you were looking from the outside, only you could have seen every single person's face, every look of shock... then horror as to what unfolded next.

  


As soon as he pulled Fox from Theresa, he violently shoved his little brother away from him... and onto Sheridan Crane. 

  


Sheridan had, against Luis's request, made her way silently to the group. She stood next to Chad, also watching the two brothers fight over Theresa. Sheridan could only sympathize with Theresa, knowing all too well what it was like to be stuck between two men that loved her. She stood to the side, thinking how fortunate she was for not being involved in this mess... and realizing only too late that she would be an unfortunate casualty.

  


Stunned silence fell upon the group, their eyes on Fox and Sheridan. Fox had landed face forward on her, their eyes staring into one another as if trying to grasp what had happened. Both too stunned, too confused... and too unaware of the pool of blood now forming around them. 

  


It was Theresa's scream that woke everyone up into realizing how fatal the fall was. Her scream caused everyone to notice with horror of the blood draining from their bodies. 

  


And it was Theresa's horrifed cries that made everyone aware of the shattered edge pipe that broke Fox and Sheridan's fall. A rusty, piece of metal that was now wet and crimson with Crane blood.

  


I wish I could give you a happy ending to my story. I wish I could tell you that I was wrong about love. That love was worth every tear and every blood shed. I wish I could tell you that love was even worth death... but I gave up lying the day my "love" for Miguel killed my child.

  


Now you could say that I'm just being bitter. That yes, I did lose my child because I was stupid, _but_ that doesn't mean I have to be miserable because of it for the rest of my life. You could even tell me that not everyone believes that love is worthless. And y'know what, you're right. I am bitter. I did lose my baby because I was stupid. I don't have to be miserable for the rest of my life. And, of course, I know that everyone has a different view of love.

  


But you just have to wonder... Is love worth it?

  


Ask Theresa that question. Ask her about it as she stands by Fox's bedside, helping him into his wheelchair. Ask her about it as she walks him over to his daily physical therapy. Ask her about it as she tries desperately to forgive herself for what she has done to Fox. Ask her about it as she tries to forget that if it wasn't for her scheme to use Fox to make Ethan jealous, Fox wouldn't be in the state that he was in. Ask her about it as her guilt over putting him in this position eats at her heart, knowing that she almost sacrificed real love for a love that she thought was right. And as she watches him struggle each day to walk again, ask Theresa if her "love" for Ethan was worth Fox's handicap.

  


Ask Ethan. Ask him if his love for Theresa was worth it. Ask him about it as he pleads with his wife for forgiveness. Ask him as he begs for Gwen not to cut him out of her life... and out of their child's life. Ask him about it as he prays for Fox to forgive him. Ask him about it as his heart breaks everyday in knowing that Theresa will never speak to him, forgive him, and most of all, love him. Ask him about it as he stares into the picture of Sheridan Crane. Ask him about it as he begins to slowly realize that on that fateful Sunday, he had managed to kill more than his future, his marriage, and his freedom. Ask Ethan if his love for Theresa was worth the lives he destroyed that day, including his own.

  


Now, ask Luis. Ask him if all the lies, all the pain, all the struggle to hold on was worth it. Ask him if it was worth lying to his brother just so that he can spend some time that day with his brother's wife. Ask him if it was worth keeping Sheridan away from her home, bringing her to the wharf just so that they can spend some time together. Ask him if all the times they spent loving each other in secret instead of just revealing the truth was worth it. Ask him about it now as he'll forever be changed because of that day. Ask him about it as he's constantly plagued everyday with "what-if's". Ask Luis if his love and desire to keep Sheridan was worth it... especially now as he visits Sheridan's grave. A grave that she also shares with their unborn child.

  


So I ask you... is love worth it? All the pain? All the heartache? All the tears? All the blood shed? What about life itself? Was everything, is everything, that we do all in the name of love... is it worth it, Father?

  


Because from where I'm sitting... it's not.


	3. Is it worth it?

**EPILOGUE:**

Silence hung over them like a thick cloud just waiting for a blast of sun light to penetrate through. It was thick, it was uncomfortable... and yet, neither seemed willing to be the first to break.

  


Kay and Wyatt just sat in their places for what seemed like days, when it was merely a few minutes. Kay was debating whether to get up and leave the poor priest speechless, or remain sitting and anticipating in slight curiousity as to what he might reply to her tale. She watched him and immediately knew that a million thoughts raced through his mind, trying to find the "right thing" or the "priestly thing" to say.

  


However, as the minutes droned on, Kay found her patience wearing thin. Reluctantly, she got up and headed for the door. Not speaking a word, just giving him a "Thanks for hearing my sad tale" smile and nod of the head, Kay started for the exit. 

  


Her back was towards him as his own voice broke through the silence.

  


"I can't bring her back."

  


Not daring to turn around and face him, "I never expected you to, Father. Be a damn miracle, wouldn't it?" She turned to him, casting a tight smile before leaving. "Thanks for your time."

  


Wyatt stood up and placed a firm, yet gentle, hand on her shoulder. His voice, much to her surprise, wasn't with pity or sad understanding. It was of stern determination and hope. A sound that she hadn't heard in another human's voice since the incident. "Kay, there is a miracle just waiting to be born. It involves you having the courage, having enough faith, to believe in love. To believe in its beauty, in its worth."

  


"Are you trying to save my soul?" She turned to face him. Her eyes tired and weary, "If you're worried about me committing suicide, Wyatt, there's no need. I'm not that big of a sell-out. And besides," Her eyes narrowed, "I think too much blood has already been spilled in this town."

  


He closed his eyes and allowed a sigh to escape his lips. Looking at her, "If you're worried about me giving you a lecture, Kay, don't be. I'm not going to preach to you."

  


She searched his eyes, trying to read into it as if sensing a trap. With hesitation, "Good. Then there's no need of me being her any longer than I have to." Kay slowly turned around again, hands gripping at the door knob. Just as she opened the door and took her first step, however...

  


"How's your relationship with your mother these days?"

  


Kay stopped abruptly. Of all the questions or comments this priest could've made, it involved her mother?! Letting curiousity get the better of her, "What?"

  


When Kay turned to face him, Father Wyatt was sitting back down behind his desk. He looked up at her and repeated the same question. This time, Kay was able to see a small amused twinkle in his eyes. Probably from noticing the puzzled look on her face.

  


"I talked for the past twenty or so minutes about love and death that had significantly _nothing_ to do with my _mother_... and yet the first question you ask me is about her?"

  


Nodding his head nonchalantly, "Basically... you don't hate her anymore, right?"

  


"No... she's my mom. Of course I don't hate her." Kay slowly made her way back to her original seat, her eyes steady on the young priest. "Looking back, I don't think it was hate I felt... just anger and frustration."

  


"So you love her." His question came out more like a statement.

  


"Duh," She replied, unknowingly allowing a small smirk to creep up on her face. "She's my mom. How could I not?"

  


He folded his hands on his desk, Wyatt's eyes now shining with secretive amusement. As if he knew something that he was just dying to let Kay in on. "Did you want to come in and talk to me today, Kay? Don't worry about my feelings, just be honest."

  


"I was going to be honest anyway, Padre." Kay remarked. "No, I wasn't looking forward to conversating with you today. Talking to a priest is like talking to a therapist. Except that the therapist has a better sex life."

  


Wyatt allowed a small chuckle to escape his lips. "No argument here. So you really wasn't looking forward to our little chat."

  


Kay gave him one of her old infamous "Duh" looks. "I thought _listening _was one of your many job qualifications."

  


"But you're here."

  


She began squirming in her seat, already feeling anxiety. "Unfortunately... look, Father, what's your point?"

  


His eyes steeled itself onto her gaze, making it hard for her to look away. "Why are you here, Kay? Especially since you made it clear that you'd probably rather have all your teeth pulled than spend time with me."

  


A exasperated sigh escaped her lips, "Look, my mom wanted me to come here. She felt that I'd be better off talking to you than talking to 'God' via my bedroom ceiling. At least I'd get actual feedback, y'know? That's why I'm here. You can thank my mother for this enlightening afternoon."

  


"And is she happy that you agreed to this little afternoon session?"

  


"She's thrilled to have me step out of the house. This little excursion practically had her doing back-flips."

  


Wyatt took a small pause, his eyes finally removing itself from Kay's own to stare onto his desk. Finally, he looked up. "So let me get this straight... and bare with me, Kay. All you have to do is answer 'yes' or 'no'."

  


"What is this? Twenty questions?"

  


He gave her an amused look, "Just do this little thing for me, Kay, and I'll let you go and never ask you back."

  


Kay crossed her arms, smirking, "Oh goody. You promise?"

  


"You didn't want to come here."

  


Sighing, "Yes."

  


"But your mother wanted you to come here."

  


"Yes."

  


"So now you're here."

  


"Yes."

  


"You're here even though you'd rather be somewhere else."

  


"Big fat yes."

  


"But you're here, and you're mother is happy that you're here."

  


Another sigh, "Yes."

  


"And you love your mother."

  


"Yes."

  


"And because you love your mother, you felt that she was _worth_ sacrificing your own discomfort to see to her happiness."

  


"Yes--" Kay stopped short, realizing what she was about to admit to this priest, this witty, underhanding, tricky bastard priest. "Oh my God... you son of a b--"

  


Wyatt held his forefinger up as he cast her a playful, self-satisfied grin. "Careful, Kay. We are afterall in His Lord's house."

  


"Well does He know that one of his servants would make a better lawyer than a man of the cloth?" Kay quipped, her arms crossed tightly. She was, however, unable to hold back an equally amused smile.

  


"That's what my own father once told me. Said I'd have better benefits as a lawyer than a priest."

  


"Oh yeah... how many lawyers do you see today claiming celibacy? Besides Ally McBeal?"

  


Wyatt chuckled, "Are you always dripping with wit and sarcasm, Miss Katherine Bennett?"

  


Kay was about to open her mouth with another retort when she fell silent with realization. A small bashful smile appeared on her face. "I used to, Father Wyatt. Before the incident... My God, it feels like ages since I talked like this. Ages since I was able to go back and forth with someone so freely..."

  


A sincere grin appeared on his face now. "Well, I'm sorry that it had to be with boring old me, Kay. Someone whom, as I seconds recall, you'd rather not be chatting with."

  


Surprising both herself and Wyatt, "No!" Again, with the bashful smile, "No, don't be... if anyone should be apologizing, it should be me. You're just trying to help and here I come, quick to the defense."

  


"Kay, I can't explain to you why bad things had happened to you, and to this town, in the last couple of months. I can't tell you that love had nothing to do with it, because in a twisted way, it was involved. Like how often or not God is used as a scapegoat, as a way to blame bad things. So often is the goodness of love when anger, hate and sadness taints it. I can't speak for anyone else outside of this room... but I will speak for you. 

  


"You can be healed. Not all at once, but eventually or why else try to provoke a fight between us? Deny it all you want, Kay, but you felt an argument growing. Not saying that fighting is good, but the fact that you still feel that you can fight... it still says that you're alive. You're alive and that you've got the fire in you to burn so brightly. Even bright enough to love again...

  


"You've been hurt tremendously, Kay. No one can fault you for that. You've seen the negative side of allowing outside forces into your life, controlling you, blinding you. It's okay to _want to_ defend yourself from it by shutting off completely from this world. Less chance to get hurt again. It's not okay to _actually do it_. There's a fine line between want and doing. Sometimes the line blends well into the two areas, and sometimes it's best to separate."

  


"So what do I do now, oh dear sage Father Wyatt?" Kay asked, this time half sarcastic, yet partially scared for herself.

  


"I don't know, Kay..." He replied, smiling. "We made a deal about me not asking you to come back and seeking anymore help, as I recall. I intend to keep my end of the bargain." 

  


Wyatt stood up now, heading towards the door. Holding it open to her, "Time's up anyway, Kay. Your mother's probably in the chapel waiting for you now."

  


Kay looked up at Wyatt and a whole range of emotion flooded through her. From shock to sadness to anger, then when she caught him looking down at her with a sparkle in his eyes, Kay finally smiled with realization. She stood up and walked towards the door.

  


"It was a pleasure meeting you, Kay Bennett." He held his hand out to her, as if it might be the last time they'll ever meet. 

  


Grasping his hand, returning the handshake. "Same here, Father."

  


Still holding on, his eyes never leaving hers. "And for the heck of it, I'll wonder for you if love really is worth it, Kay. That is a good question, by the way."

  


"Good." As their hands fell away from one anothers and as Kay walked on out the door, she turned back to face him. A dawn of her former self basking onto her new self smiled at Father Wyatt. "Because I'd like to hear your answer at our next session. I'll have my mother call in to set an appointment. Who knows? Maybe you can even make a housecall."

  


"Would it be worth the trip on down?" He asked, smiling at the young lady, filled with hope for her.

  


Kay Bennett smiled, a real smile that has been long kept in the dark. A smile that was once thought dead right along with her unborn child and any hope she had for herself and a peaceful future. "I think I'm worth it."

  


~~~~~~~~~~~

  


**THE END**

  


**a/n: **Please R&R. No flames, thank you. Too tired to write anymore comments except that yes I am still the same author for yet my first Passions fanfic that is still uncompleted... I'm just still stuck on how to end it, is all. Can I help it if my first Muse ran off to marry Stephen King's muse and left me alone to fend the other fic bunnies/muses that bug me?


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